Crime Suspense Stories 22 Novels & Stories

The waitress left the menus, running down the specials before pouring us sparkling water. “Do you kidnap women all the time and take them to breakfast?” I asked him as I folded my napkin in my lap. “Kidnap? I recall you leaving willingly.” “Are you sure about that? I mean, you had so much bass in your voice it sounded more like a command.”

I cut him off. The words came out sharp and direct. I wasn't interested in preambles. I wasn't interested in carefully constructed sentences. I wanted a straight answer and I wanted it now. Eric looked at me for a moment. Then he nodded, like he had expected exactly that. "My name is Eric Carrington," he began, his voice dropping slightly, taking on a different weight entirely. "I run one of the largest criminal syndicates in this country. I control a network of underground operations across the city—the casinos, the clubs, the trafficking of weapons, territories, everything that moves in the dark in this city moves because I allow it to.”

The crime scene was processed with the usual efficiency, but Casie felt the weight of the note in her pocket like a stone. As she and Rick drove to meet the Captain, she stared out the window, mind racing through possibilities. The symbols, the wounds, that ancient script—all pointed to something far beyond their department's usual homicides. "You're quiet," Rick observed, navigating through morning traffic. "More quiet than usual, I mean." "Just processing," she replied, the half-truth coming naturally after years of hiding her true nature. "These kills are escalating. The first two were found in abandoned buildings, but this one..."

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My legs shake uncontrollably, and I make a move to run, but he grabs me by the waist and yanks me back, pressing the barrel of the gun under my chin and forcing my face upward until my eyes lock with his. My soul leaves my body. Cold sweat drenches me. Tremors hit so violently that, ironically, if this man pointing a fucking gun at my face weren’t holding me up, I’d already be on the ground. For a split second, panic hijacks my brain — how the hell does he know my name? Then his hand leaves my waist and rises to the chain around my neck. My necklace. The damned necklace. “Not very smart, walking around with a collar that spells your name.” He rips it off with brutal force, and I gasp. The ba

She assured him, squeezing his hand while trying hard not to moan as my fingers gently rubbed her hole, she shut her eyes trying hard to hold it in but not for long, I knew she would give in eventually. Her legs squeezed tightly against my hand, trying to stop me from going further but it was pointless, I could tell she was so close to cumming, her eyes shut and despair twitched on her lips. “What if your uncle finds out what you're doing?” she whispered. “Fuck.” She cursed hoarsely, every hear turned to her direction. “What’s wrong baby.” Uncle Frank asked her. “You seem stressed.” “I’m fine.” She jumped to her feet, breathing heavily as she looked around the table and slowly sat back on

After all, the room was stuffy and smelled of sex and sweat. ‘Oh God, please don't let him find out what was going on in here,’ I silently prayed as goosebumps erupted all over my skin. Just then, Callendon waved a hand towards the dish Cain seemed to be busy garnishing. Cain was just about to pour in the thick syrup when Callendon stopped him. “Make me something else. I don't want that,” Callendon ordered, darting his narrowed eyes at me. The hairs at the nape of my neck rose, the feel of anxiety punching my lungs making it difficult to breathe.

Damien Blackwood’s POV They’re already in the cage when I return from the study—curled together on the thin black mattress like exhausted animals, wrists and ankles still loosely cuffed from earlier, thin silver chains connecting collar to collar so neither can pull more than a few inches away from the other. The steel bars are cold against their overheated skin.

No. The department must be trusted. And the agency should send reliable people to work there. He closed all the windows with his mouse. - All open... you are a detective and you leave evidence like this? Maybe I do need a break. Without realizing it, he missed the slip of a criminal.

The blonde let everyone out from her body until there was nothing left to bring out. The sound of glass shattering. The sight of red liquid continuously flowing out. The look on the lifeless man’s face. The loud siren of the police cars. The panicking voice of Dakota. The look of betrayal on her face as they met eyes. That exact moment flashed vividly in her mind.